


Choke Chain

by bearonthecouch



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Dogs of the Military, F/M, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Ishval Civil War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 18:26:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15491952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearonthecouch/pseuds/bearonthecouch
Summary: "I don't remember anything but fire."





	Choke Chain

“They won't kill me. I'm too valuable.”

Riza's heart twists. She sucks in a breath and glances at Roy out of the corner of her eye. He sits on the edge of his military cot, hands pushing down hard, making twisted imprints in the sheets. Those hands wear the gloves he never takes off, the blood-red arrays standing out sharply in the sunlight that pours through the tent's opened door-flap.

He has these debates with himself almost every night, struggling to figure out why he should continue to follow Amestrian High Command's brutal orders. He knows with absolute certainty that they won't kill him, but there are other punishments. There are worse things than death. Losing Riza would be worse than death. As would letting her be punished for the things he does and doesn't do.

And he can't remember why he'd want to disobey anyway. All they ask him to do is light fires. It's easy. A snap of his fingers and it's only when he hears the screaming and smells the sickening stench of burning flesh that something in him wakes up and says 'this is wrong!' He pulls away from that instinct. It hurts and it conflicts with his orders. How can it be wrong to follow orders?

“Roy...” Riza breathes.  
  
He's covered in ash, it clings to his skin, dusts his dark hair, stains his clothing.

He shrugs. “It's not like I didn't know this was where I'd end up,” he mutters. Talking to himself. To his glove-covered hand. “The war's lasted for seven years. Since before I started at the Academy.”

The Academy. It was his choice to go, even knowing what it would mean. Her eyes find the chain that starts at his belt loop and disappears into the pocket of his pants. That chain marks him as a State Alchemist. It's not wrapped around his throat, but it might as well be.

_They won't kill me._

Riza's a soldier too, but she fights for the Amestrian Military willingly. They do not have to force her compliance with barely veiled threats. She isn't worth much to them, and there's a sickening freedom in that.

Roy's worth a lot. He can burn an entire Ishvalan village to the ground in a matter of hours. And he does. And he comes back haunted. And he wants to die, but his life does not belong to him. It isn't his to give, or take away.

Riza wonders what's worth signing away your free will and your humanity to become a dog of the military. Well. He couldn't even light a candle before he went to military school. Talented youth are recruited and trained, and the power they receive is extraordinary. Riza might be a little jealous, if she were the jealous type. (Riza's a little bit jealous. She will never, ever admit it. Days like these, Roy would probably snarl and snap at her. And he'd be right to.)

They say it's a choice, but is it, really? When a squad of armed soldiers comes to your door to take your child, who resists?

It wasn't his choice to go.

She sits down next to him, holding her breath. He used to ask if she was afraid of him. She always lied and said no. She's not afraid of Roy Mustang, but that isn't who he is anymore, even if that's what she calls him inside this little tent. Outside, he's the Flame Alchemist, and he has killed thousands. And he could kill her. If they told him to, he would kill her. He would snap his fingers without a second thought. He doesn't even ask anymore. Riza thinks he knows the answer. He never quite meets her eyes when he looks at her, and they both pretend that this isn't the case.

Roy runs his fingers over Riza's back, tracing the lines of a secret array drawn there, as if he can see them even through her dark uniform shirt. He could see them with his eyes closed. He knows them intimately. He knows those lines and shapes and coded symbols far more intimately than he's ever known her. She shivers at the contact, trying not to cry.

She doesn't have a tattoo, but something in his broken mind blames and thanks her for being the source of his power.

She bites her lip and wishes he could remember why he touches her. He used to touch _her_. Used to want her. As far as she can tell, he doesn't want anything anymore, except his handler's rewards. Rewards like being allowed to spend a few hours with Riza Hawkeye as the sun sets over the Ishvalan sands. Riza knows Command thinks she keeps Mustang calm and compliant. Maybe she does.

“Roy...” she murmurs. He flinches at the sound of his name.

Riza has actually trained dogs; the little, fluffy balls of fur that bark and cuddle. She understands the principle easily. Pain when they do something you don't like, rewards for behavior you want to encourage. It sickens her how easily the principles apply to human beings. They apply well enough that Roy can't remember his life before the Academy, beyond hazy flashes that he desperately clings to while desperately trying to dispose of them at the same time. He remembers her well enough that she can be used against him.

They won't kill him, but they can kill her. So he follows his orders, and he comes back smelling like smoke with hollow eyes. Riza hasn't ever heard of any of the other State Alchemists feeling guilty. They have the same dead looks on their faces, but they sit around camp and talk about their work with grim satisfaction. Some of them even take pride in it. They are rewarded, why wouldn't they be happy?

Roy almost never speaks at all, except when he's half-begging her to kill him, but she won't do that. The fact that he wants it means he's still too close to human, to the boy she remembers.

Riza wraps her arm around him and pulls him close and she doesn't care about the smoke and ashes. Her heart hurts and she doesn't know what to say. She wants to say 'I love you.' But what she says instead is “I'm proud of you. Keep fighting, fucker.”

The praise settles in the part of his brain that has been conditioned to receive it. The cursing flips a switch that reminds him that no one from Command talks like that. He stares at her, trying to remember. “Riza,” he gasps, taking too long to recognize her. Some days are worse than others. She swallows hard. “I... I don't remember,” he pleads. “I don't remember anything but fire.”

“I remember,” she insists. “Keep fighting.”

He nods. He'll follow her orders. Riza cries. Roy watches but doesn't understand. Their time together is supposed to be a reward.

Why isn't she happy?

 


End file.
